Birthdays & Balconies (Steve AU)

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Characters: reader, Steve, mentions of others.

Summary: A sleepless night caused by loud neighbors has you at the end of your rope when you have an unexpected encounter on your balcony. (Steve AU)

Warnings: mild language maybe?

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Happy 100th Birthday, Steve Rogers!! I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoy it! Any and all feedback is appreciated! I adore you guys!! :) 

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It was official. You were going to commit murder tonight. In your eyes, it was completely justified, but perhaps no one else would see that way. Lying perfectly still with a pillow over your head, you hoped and prayed that the noise would stop on its own, but finally you shot up in bed and tossed off the covers. The alarm clock on the nightstand now read 12:14am. Those bastards.

For nearly 4 hours, music thumped through the floor below you until sleep was utterly impossible. You tried earplugs, headphones, multiple pillows, but to no avail. At this point, the bass was thumping throughout your entire apartment and rattling in your ribcage. This was ridiculous. How had no one else called the cops with a noise complaint yet? Perhaps they didn't want to be the whistleblower. Or maybe you were the only one in the entire building who was actually trying to sleep.

Okay, fine, it was a holiday. The large fireworks displays had ended around 10:30pm and you even survived the neighborhood kids setting off their own small demonstrations in the form of colored sparklers shooting 5 feet in the air while making a whistling noise. Fine. It's to be expected. But this? This was beyond absurd.

In the past few hours you had emotionally moved through annoyance, then agitation, and now you had settled on murderous rage. Your downstairs neighbors had moved in about 6 months ago and it was a group of three guys, from what you had heard. Granted, you weren't the most social when it came to your neighbors and kept to yourself so you didn't know them well. And sadly, now they had to die. Climbing off the bed, you headed straight for your balcony and threw the door open roughly. It hit the perpendicular wall and bounced back, closing behind you.

Hands clutched tightly around the railing, you leaned down and screamed over the noise. "IF YOU DON'T TURN DOWN THAT MUSIC I'M GONNA SHOVE A BOTTLE ROCKET UP YOUR ASS!!"

A bark of laughter was heard from directly below you, a male voice then answering loudly, but calmly. "Alright, alright. Your point was made. I'll tell them to turn it down. Hang on."

You heard a door open and the music amplified even further.

"BUCKY. HEY, BUCK. TURN THE MUSIC DOWN."

"PARTY POOPER," you heard the yelling response from inside.

"COME ON, MAN, WE HAVE NEIGHBORS," the man on the balcony bargained.

"FINE, FINE," the other male voice replied and within a few seconds, the booming bass had lessened.

"Better?" the man asked from close by. Looking down, you could barely see a large, backlit shape below you. He was leaning on his own railing just as you were.

"A little. Thanks," you spoke, grateful that you didn't have to yell anymore. Or commit murder. "You know...I'm as patriotic as the next person, but this seems a little overkill. I know it's the 4th, but...." you trailed off.

A short chuckle reached you in the dark. "Yeah, well, uh...it's, um...it's actually my birthday, too. Or it was, until...20 minutes ago," he replied, sounding a little embarrassed to share.

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